


I'd never

by aschicca



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, post-513, teeny tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aschicca/pseuds/aschicca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ted made a wish. Justin is upset by it. Brian is amused. Or is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd never

**Author's Note:**

> During a convention he attended in 2008, Randy was asked about the ending of the show and he gave a peculiar interpretation. This is the direct quote from an attendee's report: "When Ted is making a wish on his b-day, the twenty minutes after that are like a ‘dream’: Ted and Blake are back together, Emmett finds someone from his past, Mel and Linds leave for Canada, Brian and Justin have some ‘fantasy’ love making (with the filming of some of their sex/love scenes being projected on their skin in the meantime) then Justin leaves for NY and then Babylon is just being constructed again, very quickly. One of the presenters of the convention asked Randy what he thought about the fact that maybe nothing of that really happened. Randy said that it has been shot "like a possibility of what COULD happen" (after Ted’s wish) "but doesn’t happen" for real."
> 
> This fic can be considered my take on what Randy said. I wrote this back in 2008 so this is a very old story of mine. Also, a LOT of my very own personal feelings towards the ending of the show shine brightly in this story... just thought I should mention it.

Brian was lying on his long white sofa reviewing the presentation for the latest Brown Athletics campaign he had created. His jean-clad legs were open and while one of them rested comfortably on the couch, the other was bent at the knee and a naked foot tapped the loft’s floor. Brian was totally immersed in his review therefore when the door slid violently open emitting a loud, shrieking noise, he startled, abruptly shaken out of his readings, and looked up with an annoyed expression, ready to tell whoever was responsible to fuck off.

Just one look at Justin’s upset face made Brian change his mind immediately. Things were going fine, in Brian’s opinion, ever since the two of them had called off the wedding, agreeing that it was too soon and that they were doing it for the wrong reasons. Brian had freaked out over the bombing and the subsequent fear of losing Justin, that was the reason why he had suddenly proposed, and then tried to turn himself into the man he thought Justin wanted as husband only succeeding in freaking _Justin_ out. They had now fallen back into their old routine, had resumed their partnership with mutual satisfaction, and Justin was even thinking about trying to get his art known in the ‘big world’ taking advantage of the good, albeit phony and filled with big words, review that whatshisname-art-critic had written about the painting Justin showed at the Sidney Bloom’s Gallery. That was the reason why nothing, Brian thought, could justify such a distressed expression on Justin’s face.

‘You didn’t fuck up without realizing it, Kinney, did you?’, Brian asked himself quizzically, knowing full well it was entirely possible he had. Nothing came to his mind though so he decided to cut things short and ask.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine? Why so distressed?”

Justin closed the door, toed off his sneakers leaving them beside it, and then made what could be absolutely described as a ‘bee-line’, towards the sofa. Brian tried to wipe off his face the smirk that the thought of a drawing of JT with a line of smoke behind him threatened to leave out, and waited for Justin to answer. Justin knelt in front of the sofa and grabbed Brian’s face with both hands.

“You know I’d never… Brian, you know, don’t you?” Justin said looking straight into Brian’s eyes.

“Right. Calm down and start from the beginning because, I hate to tell you, but you’re not making any fucking sense, Sunshine. What the fuck happened?” Brian’s voice could have sound sarcastic and biting to an external observer who knew nothing about him; Justin heard perfectly the concern and caring hidden behind Brian’s words.

Justin took a deep breath and, very visibly, tried to shake the tension off his body. Weirdly enough, watching this just worried Brian more and he had to restrain himself from demanding Justin gave him the name of the person who had upset him so much, so that he could go kick their sorry ass. Assuming that person wasn’t Brian himself because, Brian mused, that possibility hadn’t been discarded yet.

“What happened is that I met Ted at the Diner and…” Justin’s speech was cut off by Brian’s disbelieving “ _Theodore_ upset you? Justin, I doubt Theodore is able to upset a fly, let alone a big boy like you.” And yes, this time that external observer would be right, Brian was being sarcastic.

“If you’d let me finish a fucking sentence, maybe you’d know more, don’t you think?” Brian decided he’d rather have Justin glaring at him that seeing the mournful expression that had been there just a moment before cloud his face and his beautiful blue eyes. Brian also figured he’d better signal Justin to go on with his story before his thoughts would manage to turn him into a fucking lesbian.

Justin made sure he had Brian’s full attention – glaring at him some more to ensure he wouldn’t be interrupted anymore – then started again.

“As I was saying, I met Ted at the Diner. He was sitting in a booth with Emmett and they were talking about some sort of birthday wish of Ted’s. I sat down with them and Ted was just finishing telling Emmett how everything had looked so real, he almost thought it _had been_ real. I obviously got curious and asked Ted to tell me about it too. He did and, Brian, please promise me to hear me out before saying something else? Please?”

Brian had already lost big part of his interest since, let’s be honest, who gives a fuck about Theodore’s birthday wishes? Birthdays don’t mean anything anyway, and wishes? You can’t sit on your ass and _wish_ for something, if you want it you have to get up and fucking take it. But, he still wanted to find out what exactly had messed with Justin’s emotions like that, so he nodded his agreement.

“Thanks,” Justin smiled and even leaned down to place a kiss on Brian’s lips – which to be fair only succeeded in shifting Brian’s remaining interest onto different subjects – before resuming his story.

“Looks like while blowing his candles – no remarks – Ted wished for changes in all our lives; not only his own, but everyone’s. He told me he got Blake back, obviously, and had Emmett meet an old classmate of his – hot like hell, according to Ted – after the break up with Drew. Ted also said that Michael and Ben legally adopted Hunter and they were really happy.” Justin paused for a moment, unsure how to go on and Brian failed to keep his word and let his big mouth loose.

“Please, don’t tell me wittle Sunshine got all emotional because the Stepford family was reunited and Honeycutt met a hunky classmate. I thought you knew better!” Brian smirked, shaking his head. 

He realized his mistake a moment later but there wasn’t much more he could do other than watch Justin get up and storm in the direction of the kitchen, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “Should have known he wouldn’t give a fuck!”.

Sighing, Brian, who indeed gave a fuck (and how strange was it that he not only was able to admit it now but he didn’t even freak out about the realization and run to fuck at least three guys anymore?), stood up from the sofa and softly padded towards the fuming lad who had reached the counter and was now standing there, his back to Brian. Once he reached Justin, Brian wrapped his arms around the slender frame of his lover and buried his face in the crook of his neck, kissing it in a silent apology.

Justin relaxed back into Brian’s embrace and shivered giving a short, breathy laugh when Brian started peppering kisses up his neck until he reached his ear and whispered, “I won’t interrupt anymore, I promise. Go on, tell me. Unless…” Brian stopped and punctuated his pause with a thrust of his hips, pushing his half-hard cock into Justin’s ass, “Unless, you’d rather stop talking and do something more entertaining.”

Justin was tempted. Fuck knows he was tempted. But he still felt the need to tell Brian everything about what Ted had told him so he shook his head and whispered “Later,” before turning his head and kissing Brian’s mouth.

Ending the kiss, Brian said “You better stop kissing and start talking if you want me to keep my hands off you.” And then kissed Justin again belying his words.

With a great effort, Justin extricated himself from Brian’s grasp, and turned around to face him. “Wait, Brian wait. I need to tell you about the rest. Please will you listen this time?” Brian nodded taking Justin’s hand in his and pulling him back towards the sofa, where the two of them sat.

Eyes down, playing with an invisible crinkle in Brian’s jeans, Justin started talking again. 

“That wasn’t all Ted said, Brian. I told you he wished things for all of us, even if to be fair it almost felt like Ted fell asleep and dreamt all this. Anyway he also wished, or dreamt or whatever the fuck you want to call it, about me and you.” At this point Justin stopped and looked up at Brian. That fucking distressed expression had reappeared and Brian was once again filled with a huge desire to go kick Ted’s ass and then come home and fuck the hurt out of Justin’s face.

“What did he say about us? Tell me.” While he was saying this, Brian’s hand rose and buried itself in the blond locks of Justin’s hair, softly caressing and massaging, aiming to relax.

“He said… he… Brian you know I’d never…” Justin seemed unable to go on, therefore Brian used his hand to pull Justin’s head closer and kiss him passionately on the lips.

“I know, okay? Whatever it is, I know. I know, Justin.” Brian pressed his forehead against Justin’s and whispered, “Now tell me.”

And, almost as if Brian’s words had released him, Justin let everything out in a single breath. 

“He said I left you. He said I took my backpack and nothing else and left you to go to New York to become a fucking success. Like, who’d do that? With no contacts, no place to live, no money, no fucking job! You think I’d just up and leave only because some asshole queen thinks I’m the new Warhol? I’d never do that! I mean of course I want my art to be known, but I’d never throw myself so blindly into something like that! How could I live? What would I eat? How could I be without _you_? And then there was that bullshit about our last fuck, you saying it was ‘only time’ and then kissing me desperately and fucking me face to face like the first time only it felt like the last and… then I left you laying on the bed, on your stomach, one leg propped up and the other flat against the bed. There, in all – and I’m quoting here, Brian – ‘your naked glory, beautiful and yet broken’. Dancing at Babylon just a moment later, sad, hurting, _alone_! Fuck, I didn’t even come back for the re-opening! Seriously? I’d _never_ do that, Brian. Never. When I’m going to New York to promote my art, I’m going to do it right, I’m never leaving you ‘beautiful and broken’ because you’d know I’d be back! And I’d fucking be back for the re-opening of Babylon, you know that right?”

This speech had left Justin breathless and with his eyes bugging out, and Brian with a strangely amused, albeit weirded out – ‘Only time’? The fuck? – expression.

“Okay, first... Am I re-opening Babylon? I thought we were still thinking about doing that. Have we decided something?”

Though pleased by the _we_ used by Brian when talking about a possible re-opening of the club Brian owned, Justin had trouble deciding if he wanted to hit Brian upside the head for completely missing the point or tell the whole thing once again because maybe, in his haste, he had failed to make Brian _see_ the point.

“Brian…” Justin started but now Brian was unstoppable.

“Although now I understand what got you so distressed. I mean _Theodore_ daydreaming about my naked ass is disturbing to say the least, even if not surprising. Might have to have a word or two with him at the office tomorrow. It just won’t do to fantasize about your Boss, ‘naked glory’ or not, you know?” Brian said, his tongue firmly stuck in his cheek.

Justin decided he’d had enough. “That was _not_ the point, you asshole! Did you listen to a word I said? I. Left. You. I just up and left, we weren’t together anymore! Is it more clear now?”

“Justin,” Brian’s voice and the use of his name, something Brian rarely did preferring ‘twat’, ‘little shit’ or, when he was feeling particularly affectionate ‘Sunshine’, showed to Justin the Brian had decided to take things seriously. “What the fuck do you care if Theodore wished, dreamt or whatever the fuck else, about you and I splitting? Why do you feel the need to prove to me so forcefully that ‘you’d never’? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Brian’s hazel eyes bore deeply into Justin’s blue ones and Justin felt himself blushing softly. He should have known Brian would read through the lines, he should have known that his sarcasm and his jokes were just a façade, a defense against something Brian didn’t want to analyze. But Justin had insisted and now he found himself under the hard scrutiny of those beautiful eyes.

“There’s nothing I’m not telling you, Brian. But, shit, of course I thought about going to New York and stay there for a while to see if I could better promote my art. I thought about it, and then discarded the thought because I’m not an idiot. I know I’m talented, I know that, and I want to become someone in the art world. But not at the expenses of my well being since not having a place to live in could really result in me getting in trouble; not at the expenses of my health because not having a job nor any money would definitely starve me; and most of all not at the expenses of our relationship. Because if I don’t have you, then I don’t have 60% of my inspiration. So, yeah, I thought about going and maybe Ted’s words have made me feel guilty about that… especially the, you know, ‘broken, sad, alone’ bit.” Justin stopped and looked at Brian, willing him to understand he wasn’t lying and there was nothing he wasn’t telling him.

Too late, he remembered he should have known better than to bring up again the ‘alone and broken’ part.

“Don’t do me any favors, Sunshine. If you want so badly to go, I’m sure I could arrange to find you a place to stay and I’ll support you until you won’t need it anymore. And don’t bullshit me with the ‘broken’ thing, I’m sure I’ll manage to live with myself without cutting my wrists, while you’re taking a big bite off the Big Apple.”

That said, Brian rose from the sofa and walked towards the bedroom, his back stiff and his whole body screaming “fuck off”. Justin didn’t. He reached out for Brian’s wrist, halting him and forcing him to turn around.

“Listen to me, Brian, and listen closely. _I don’t want to go to New York._ Not to live, anyway. It’s not practical, it’s not doable – and no, I’m not taking your fucking money – and it’s not what I want! I want exactly what I have now, I don’t need more. Yes, I’ll try and make myself a name with my art but _not_ at risk of losing everything else that matters for me. Meaning, you, you asshole!” Tired of talking, Justin practically climbed over Brian and attacked his mouth fiercely. 

Justin put everything in his kiss: the regret for making Brian think he wanted to leave him; the love for him that could only be compared with the one he felt for his art; the guilt caused by the pictures Ted’s words had painted in his mind, the same guilt that had sparked his need to convince Brian that ‘he’d never’; and the promise. The ‘I won’t ever leave you, Brian, you’re stuck with me’. 

Brian heard everything. And his body relaxed. 

Breaking the kiss, Justin looked into Brian’s eyes and asked, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” was the breathy reply Brian offered. “Now, how about I go lay down in all my ‘naked glory’ on the bed in the position Theodore so vividly described, but this time _you_ stay under me, where you belong?”

Justin thought he’d never heard a better plan in his life. The story of Mel and Linds running away to Canada taking Gus with them could wait. Or maybe, Justin thought grinning, he’d have Ted tell Brian that.


End file.
